


nothing we wouldn't do

by DarthLivion (impulsewriter)



Series: Fallen Archangel [3]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Aziraphale giving silent (ish) support, Background Relationships, Crowley Was Raphael Before He Fell (Good Omens), Gen, Light Angst, Minor Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Protective Siblings, Siblings, Supportive Aziraphale, Twins, Twins Michael and Crowley, sibling angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 17:56:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19361800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impulsewriter/pseuds/DarthLivion
Summary: “Of course you didn't, what am I saying? Crowley never really did deal well with spilling his secrets, even if he insisted that I could spill mine.” “What can I say? I'm a healer, I heal, even if it means that I listen to your woes.”Michael and Crowley talk.





	nothing we wouldn't do

**Author's Note:**

> eyyyy! Part 3! It's... honestly not that long considering it took me two to three days to write it (though, to be fair, I kept stopping because it Hurt to Write at some parts). And now there's a playlist for the series on Spotify, if anyone is interested! It's right here-> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1bBQZ455kKKbqvk0v08hVP?si=TCDtV7OMS76iSApnj3Ppfg
> 
> That said, I listened to 2 songs while writing this: Wind Beneath my Wings (Bette Midler), and Wake Me Up/Hey Brother (Anthem Lights).
> 
> And, again, unbeta'd, because in this house we're impulsive and too lazy to beta our own work lmao

It was... awkward, to be sitting in the living room, on the couch with Aziraphale, and Michael across from them in a chair, a cup of tea in her hands, right over her lap. Crowley was, quite honestly, a bit terrified. He hadn't told Aziraphale how close he and Michael had been, but now...

Now he'd have to.

“So... Michael. How you been?” He was the first one to break the silence – he always hated it sometimes, especially when it was uncomfortable and _awkward_ – and his voice was calm, casual, and had a certain drawl to it that Michael surely recognized1.

“... Why did you never come back?” She asked, instead of answering him. Though, if Crowley was honest with himself, that was the clearest answer she could ever give him, considering there was someone else with them2.

“Uh, it's called _Falling_ for a reason, Michael. Generally means one isn't allowed back.” The answer was flippant, a clear sign of _use your brain_ , and Michael sighed.

“Raphael-”

“Crowley.” He cut her off, and Michael paused, looking at him with a startled look. “My name is Crowley, not Raphael. I haven't been Raphael since my Fall.” Her expression turned hurt.

“Do I mean _nothing_ to you anymore, then?” She asked, “You didn't say _anything_ to me, back in Hell, when I had brought the Holy Water...” Crowley and Aziraphale shared an amused look at that.

“Right, well, that.” Aziraphale said, “That may have been a bit of an... _insurance_.” Michael stared at them, before she let out a small snort as she fought a smile3.

“You switched?” She asked, and Crowley grinned his smug grin4.

“I assure you, there would have been a tell, had I been the one to see you.” That much was absolutely true – he would have probably lost color in his face, and fear and hurt and a bit of anger would have probably seemed into his face, despite himself – and Michael, looking down at her lap, let out a small laugh, at that.

“You never answered me.” She said, looking up at him again. “Do I mean nothing to you anymore?” Crowley felt his heart break – a heart he didn't even _need_ – and shook his head.

“Michael... Michael, you mean more to me than I _want_ you to mean. It comes with the territory of how close we were, Before5.”

“Close?” Aziraphale asked, frowning softly.

“We're twins.” Michael said, smiling in soft amusement. “Did you not know, Aziraphale?” At Crowley's wince, she let out another snort. “Of course you didn't, what am I saying? Crowley never really did deal well with spilling his secrets, even if he insisted that _I_ could spill mine.”

“What can I say? I'm a healer, I heal, even if it means that I listen to your woes.” Crowley drawled.

“Even now?” Michael asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, though I probably shouldn't be.” Crowley said, “So, what brings you here, really?”

“You.” She said, and it hit Crowley like a punch in the stomach6.

“You didn't know?” He asked, and she shook her head.

“No.” She said, “None of us did. She never declared you _dead_ , but she never said you were alive, either. She said you were Lost7.” And oh, what a crippling blow _that_ must have been, not just to him now, but to Michael, back then, when he'd been first declared Lost.

“I'm sorry.” He said, voice softer than Aziraphale had ever heard it before8.

“I told you not to go.” Michael said, expression shifting, and Crowley had to look away9.

“I know... You knew me, though.” He smiled wryly. “Couldn't ever let things go, could I?10” Michael let out a small laugh that was more like a huff of breath.

“Only when it comes to people suffering, especially for a reason you don't find valid.” She replied, and Aziraphale snorted.

“He still does that, though he's loathe to admit it.” The blond said, and Crowley let out an indignant cry.

“ _Hey!_ Don't go tellin' her that! I'm absolutely horrid, I don't care-”

“You're so full of shit, Crowley.” Michael said, and when Crowley looked at her, she had a small grin on her face, and that was when Crowley knew.

No matter what, Michael was his _twin_ , and no amount of Falling or Antichrists or Gabriel and Lucifer having sticks up their asses11 would change that.

Michael was his twin, and he was hers.

And there was _nothing_ in this universe that they wouldn't do for each other.

 

1He'd always been a bit sarcastic, and had a lazy drawl to his way of talking, and it had often come around when he was in those uncomfortable silences – usually around Gabriel or Lucifer, and only around Michael when they were hanging out with their older brothers. Never once had that tone been inflicted on _her_ , though, and Crowley knew it was probably a stab of pain to her, to know _she_ was making him uncomfortable. Then again, he could also just be hoping for too much from his sister.

2If it were just the two of them, that'd be one thing, but Aziraphale was there, with them, giving Crowley support in facing off an Archangel that seemed to be here to talk, and so Michael was wearing her stupid _I am the Oldest and Strongest and I don't give a shite_ mask that she only took down when the two of them were only ever by themselves.

3It was the most open she had been, in front of another, ever since Crowley had Fallen, and while Crowley knew this was probably the case, he didn't know for sure, and Aziraphale certainly didn't, either.

4I would like for the dear Reader to recall the confident grin from Part 1, involving the cat and the annoying canary.

5Before, with the capital B, is in reference to Before the Fall, in case the dear Reader has forgotten.

6He had been punched in the stomach many times before, actually, but only once had it truly hurt, and it had been when he and Michael had gotten into a physical fight, back before he had Fallen, when they were just barely considered full grown angels. Michael can, in fact, pack quite the punch.

7Being declared Lost is not quite like _dying_ , and has nothing to do with Falling. It simply means, quite obviously, that one is _lost_ , and cannot be found, no matter hard one may be trying to find the one who had been Lost. Some angels equate it to being trapped between planes of existence, and none of them are very eager to find out if this was true.

8Aziraphale _hadn't_ heard Crowley's voice be that soft, before, but Michael most certainly had, because even now, 6000 years later, Crowley still had a giant soft spot for his sister.

9He'd always promised to make sure she never made such a pained look – or to wipe it off her face and bring a smile back – and here he was, 6000 years later, being the _cause_ of that look, of that pain, and he couldn't bear to look at her, because of it.

10He says _could_ , but, if he were to be honest with himself, he was very much still the same way, when it came to Suffering and Healing – if there was no good reason, then he had to help, he had to _stop it_ , and he wouldn't let it go until he was forced to.

11Arses, for the author's dear friends and readers across the Large Pond called the Atlantic, but since he's an American, some words just seem more suited than others, despite this taking place in London. Apologies if this offends anyone, but quite honestly, the author doesn't really care, and he'll use whatever swears he decides to use.

 

**Author's Note:**

> if anyone wants to scream about this series (or Good Omens in general), my tumblr is wreckercryptid ~~because I realized some people may not know this since this is me diving into a new fandom and forgetting to tell people what my tumblr is because now I just assume people know~~


End file.
